Ronald Weasley and the Avenge of Scarhead
by Lost soul
Summary: It's not what you think. It's come down to Voldie or Harry, and who will die? And more importantly, what will happen in the after math?
1. Introduction

A/N~ This story was done with the help of another fan fiction author: Twilight Gurl, in other words, my sister Laura. My thanks goes out to her and hopefully many more chapters will come of her and me working to make the ultimate Harry Potter story. So, with no further delay, we present to you: RONALD WEASLEY AND THE AVENGE OF SCARHEAD. PS~ A/N~ Sorry about the grammar. My computer won't let me upload certain symbols without making it like a foreign language. You'll know which one's I couldn't upload, because you won't seem them, and there are no dot, dot, dots, I love them…  
  
The Past Two Years:  
  
The Magical World had grown worse and worse following the events in Harry Potters fifth year and the death of Sirius Black. Blacks death had taken its toll on young Harry. In Harrys mind lay the evil thought that hed never quite been able to shake: that he, the famous Harry Potter, was responsible for Blacks death as well as the earlier death of Cedric Diggory.  
  
Self-blame had turned into anger following Blacks death, once Harry was allowed to sit down and contemplate what had happened late in his fifth year. Snapes lesson plan had failed, and instead of turning away the Dark Lord like Harry was supposed to learn in Occlumency, he felt an increased presence of He-who-must-not-be-named. It was because of Snapes failure that the Dark Lord had tricked Harry into thinking that his Godfather, Sirius Black, was captured. It caused Harry to go to the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. It caused Harry to actually bring Sirius to the place he thought hed been, and then, it caused the death of Sirius Black, the only relative who Harry knew had feelings of love towards him. With the death of Black, Harry remembered someone else who died in vain because of his stupidity.  
  
Cedric Diggory had been in his last year at Hogwarts when Harry was still in his fourth. By strange chances and events, he and Harry had been in the Tri-Wizard tournament together, both battling for the final prize of the champion, but helping each other along the way. In the final task of the tournament, he and Harry had reached the end together; they had helped each other through the impossible things that had crossed them in the final task. They both remembered helping one another with the previous two tasks, and Harry told Cedric to take it, he deserved it, but Cedric told them that they both should, and so, when grabbing the final prize, they were transported with the Dark Lord. You-know-who wasn't expecting Cedric to be there, so he did what he does best, he killed Cedric so that he didn't have to worry about him later on. Harry knew he could have stopped Cedric death. He could have jumped between Cedric and the Killing Curse; he could have done that. He could have stopped the Dark Lord from worrying about Cedric, and Cedric could have escaped, he could have done so much to stop him, and this time there was no one to blame but himself.  
  
But Harrys self pity could not stop him from being forced to go the Hogwarts, it was the one place where he felt at home, at peace, yet it was also the only place where he was close to Cedric, to Snape, to Sirius. Hogwarts had turned into a gift and a curse, and Harry didnt know what to see it as. A gift, he'd found such caring and loving and loyal friends like Hermione and Ron. He had found a sport he loved, Quidditch. He had discovered so many wonderful things, and experienced so many wonderful things, that Harry Potter was willing to forget the curse part of Hogwarts. It was a gift. It had to be. But always on Harrys mind were his run-ins with the Dark Lord, the episodes he had had every year, including his fifth year and Hogwarts seemed like a curse then.  
  
You-know-who spread his terror across the Magical World as fast as he could muster following Harry Potters fifth year. His reign of terror was becoming better than the last. The Dark Lord had also continued his confrontations with Harry every year, and as often as he could manage them. He knew the prophecy, and he knew that Harry Potter had to die or else risk the end of him and his campaign. And with every fight he had, the Dark Lord had come out more victorious than the last, but Potter was still alive. A smile came across his face about his fight with Harry Potter in his sixth year. Harry had come out alive but very weak. He-who-must-not-be-named had taken Harrys strength to make him stronger, and both knew that their last match would be their final.  
  
It was Harry Potters final month as Hogwarts. He had reached his seventh year alive. It was Harry Potters seventh year at Hogwarts, and his eighth run-in with Voldemort, and this time, only one could live. 


	2. Hope and Revenge

Disclaimer: I don't own this stuff, obviously, but I feel bad not putting it. I own my ideas and that's it!  
  
A/N~ Thanks to Twilight Gurl, or my sister Laura, for helping me write this story. I hope we can collaborate on more together and write many more chapters!  
  
Chapter One: Hope and Revenge  
  
Ron,  
  
It's set then, next Thursday. I understand that the Ministry sent you a letter too, so there's no need for me to tell you where it's going to be. I also understand if you don't come.  
  
Love,  
  
Hermione  
  
The letter was short and brief, too little worded to be from Hermione Granger, but it said too much in the thoughts of Ronald Weasley. He put the letter aside and motioned for Hermione's owl to leave. Ron had no intention of writing back.  
  
It had taken a month to arrange Harry Potters funeral, but not even a quarter of that time for the word of the death to get around the Wizarding World. It was all too fast, and Ron remembered Harry's Death as if it had happened yesterday.  
  
"Ron, Hermione," Harry had said, "I'm doing this alone. I cant have both of you die because of me. Too many deaths have happened because of me, and I wont let that happen to you."  
  
"Harry, no way!" Ron protested. "I'm not going to let you go after him without our help! There's no way I am."  
  
"Ron's right, Harry," Hermione said. "Voldemort has almost killed you every time you've met up with him and last time he left you more weak than ever before."  
  
"Having you two there with me wouldn't help," Harry told them. "He's after me, not you. He wants me dead, not you."  
  
"Which is why we're going!" Ron yelled. "To save you from dying!"  
  
"Ron, Hermione, there's no way I'm-" Harry stopped seeing that his friends weren't going to give in. "Fine, but look, we're finishing this conversation in the morning."  
  
But Harry wasn't there in the morning.  
  
Ron dropped his fork onto his plate remembering waking up and searching the castle and the grounds searching for Harry. He also remembered getting a sinking feeling in his stomach when Hermione had found him out of breath and panicking, telling him that Dumbledore wanted to see them.  
  
"Ron," Dumbledore had said, "Hermione, have a seat." The two took a seat in the chairs in front of the Headmasters desk. Dumbledore continued. "There's no other way to tell you this, and I'm sorry I'm the one who has to tell you this, but Harry is dead."  
  
Ron remembered Dumbledore telling them in what detail he could about Harry's last battle with the world's greatest enemy. He remembered seeing Harry's dead body and identifying it. There wasn't enough of him left to give a proper burial. They cremated him.  
  
Ron pushed his plate away, not hungry enough to eat his breakfast anymore. He looked around the Burrow's kitchen to see if anyone was there to see the tears in his eyes. There was no one there. Ron brushed away the tears as Mrs. Weasley came into the kitchen.  
  
"Ron," She said softly, "has the letter come yet?"  
  
He knew that she was talking about the letter the Ministry would send regarding the funeral.  
  
"Yeah," Ron replied. He tried to get out the words 'it just came today' out, but he felt a lump in his throat and he couldn't. Instead, he pushed the letter towards his mother and she took it.  
  
As she read it, Ron remembered more and more. The swarm of reporters that had come to the school interviewing the professors, interrupting their final exams, interrupting their dinner. Ron and Hermione had been swamped the most besides Dumbledore. They were, after all, Harry's best friends. The reporters were determined to get as much of the story as they could, and with each question Ron remembered a painfully happy experience or a painfully sad one.  
  
Mrs. Weasley put the Ministry's letter aside. Ron hid Hermione's letter from his mother's view. He could still remember what the letter from the Ministry had said he realized after a moment of thought. He had read it over and over again before the words had registered.  
  
Ginny came into the kitchen at this time. She picked up the letter now and read it out loud to herself, low enough for most not to hear, but Ron did.  
  
"'Weasley family,'" Ginny read. "'In the event of Harry Potters death, we feel that since your son, Ronald, was Mr. Potter's friend, that it would only be appropriate for you to be at the funeral. If at all possible, it would be a great honor to have Ronald speak. The funeral will be held on Thursday, July 1st, the date on which Harry was born, on the lakeshores of Hogwarts.  
  
"'The only relatives that could come or were close and knew of Mr. Potter, the Dursleys, have been asked to come. If you will do kindly see to them throughout the event since they are muggles and Author Weasley works Muggle Artifacts. See that they don't ruin the occasion. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.'"  
  
Ginny set down the letter and glanced at Ron then ran off upstairs. Ron could hear her crying through the pipes. He looked at his mother who also who looked on the verge of tears.  
  
"Do you have what you need to wear?" Mrs. Weasley asked Ron.  
  
He nodded meekly.  
  
"I have to tell the rest of the family and write to the Dursleys," She continued and leaving the kitchen. "Clean up when your finished, will you dear?"  
  
Ron didn't answer but silently nodded. The lump in his throat hadn't gone way yet, and he didn't say anything for fear that he would start crying. He picked up his plate and decided to go upstairs to his room, and prepare what he was to say at the funeral.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The funeral was horribly depressing.  
  
Everyone was dressed in a depressing black, or a deep green. Some were crying, and some were holding back their tears. Reporters looked more wrapped up in the story than the actual death of Harry.  
  
There were a few hundred wizards and witches there to honor Harry. Ron noticed a lot of people from school. He saw Hermione standing a little ways to the right, with her parents, trying to control her tears. Ron saw Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and basically every teacher that they had ever had, including Lupin. He was almost tempted to look for Sirius, but he had to remember that he had died a long time ago. That was a nice thought to think though. Harry was finally with Sirius again.  
  
Scanning the crowds further, he saw Oliver Wood there, with the rest of the Quidditch team he played for, Puddlemere United. There was Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan. All of the people who had ever been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in the seven years Harry had been at Hogwarts had showed up. A bunch of people from the Ministry had shown up, and at the moment Ron could hear Cornelius Fudge going on about Harry's honorable actions. Ron couldn't even help but think you didn't even believe Harry's word half the time!  
  
Hermione went up to talk about Harry, and she talked about the day she had met him, the first hour on the train. Ron remembered it clearly. Then she talked about how she, Harry, and Ron had become friends, and Ron remembered that too. She talked about the Philosophers stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius Black, Reamus Lupin, Wormtongue, and about the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the second rise of the Dark Lord, and the first run in with him in their fifth year with him in full power. Ron couldn't bare to hear as Hermione began to talk about Harry's bravery and amazingly true friendship, and how he was smart even though he didn't think he was. And that he really was a great wizard.  
  
The next thing Ron knew, it was his turn to walk up to the platform and speak. He walked a little stiffly, but he managed to make it there.  
  
"Harry Potter," He began, watching as hundred of eyes burned into him. He could see the reporters using extendable ears, no doubt bought from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. "Harry Potter was my first best friend. He.he will probably be my only best friend.  
  
"Harry and I got ourselves into a lot of trouble in the seven short years we knew each other," Ron continued, struggling with the words. "We were late to more classes than I can remember, we got ourselves detention more than anyone I know. We cheated on our Divinations homework so many times, and I remember him and I predicted our deaths every other homework at least five times. I don't think either of us really expected this to happen to us this soon.  
  
"He was the bravest and the strongest and the most craziest person I've ever met. I was jealous out of my mind about small things about him more times than I can recall at this moment. We shared a lot of laughs, a lot of situations most people don't see in a single lifetime, and I don' think I would give up those days for anything, not even a million galleons. He was the best person I've ever met, will ever meet, and I'm going to," Ron could feel the tears coming, "to miss," he felt the lump in his throat, "miss." He couldn't finish as he went off the podium to be greeted by Hermione and she held him as he sobbed uncontrollably.  
  
As they carried Harry's ashes over the lake a dropped them, everyone stood in silence remember him. As they revealed the memorial, a stone statue of Harry, Ron couldn't take it any more. He turned around from the crowd and made ready to leave. Hermione appeared in front him.  
  
"Ron, you can't leave." Hermione said stopping him. "Harry would have stayed Ron, he stayed at Sirius's funeral, and I'm sure he would have stayed at Cedric's if he was invited. You can't leave just yet. It's almost over Ron."  
  
Ron became aggravated. "Hermione, I cant. You don't understand." he stopped short of an explanation trying to hold back tears. "I have to go." He pushed past her.  
  
Hermione stepped in front of him again. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Does it really matter Hermione? Harry's dead, so I'm going."  
  
"It does matter, Ron. Whether you like it or not, I'm still your friend. I care about you. You can't just give up on life because something bad happens."  
  
"I don't think you get it Hermione. There is no hope. Harry was the hope against Voldemort, and now he's gone. We're all going to end up in the ground. A pile of ashes. A statue against the edge of a lake."  
  
Hermione was in tears. "Just stop it Ron." she whispered. "There is hope. There has to be.  
  
"There isn't, Hermione. With your brains you should have figured that out."  
  
"At least I don't have brains like you and give up just because something bad happened!"  
  
"Hermione! Were you not there to see his body? To hear the story? Do you really think you can fight that?"  
  
Hermione stood up straight. "Yes."  
  
"Your more of an idiot than me Hermione." Ron said and began to walk.  
  
"He was your best friend!" she called after him.  
  
Ron stopped in his tracks. Harry's memory flooded into his mind. Him saving Fleur's little sister, even though he was only supposed to save him. How he had gone ahead against terrible odds. He turned around and looked at her.  
  
"I know." was all he could manage.  
  
"Where were you planning on going, truly Ron?" she asked.  
  
He knew where he wanted to go. What he wanted to do. Avenge Harry's death. Stop the deaths, but he knew that was folly. But, he realized, sometimes that's the best time to trust your instincts.  
  
"I was going to get Voldemort." he wasn't afraid to speak his name. "To avenge Harry's death."  
  
"Ron, you just said--"  
  
"I know what I just said!" he roared. "I am very well aware of that! That's why I wasn't going to tell you! I knew that you would tell me what I just said."  
  
She was now in front of him again. "Then why did you say I was an idiot? You were planning on doing exactly what Harry did, weren't you? To go by yourself, and not tell me. Well, Ronald Weasley, whether you like it or not, I'm still better at spells than you. You're going to need my help."  
  
"Hermione, I wasn't lying about what I said. I know that what I said was true. I just figured that maybe Harry would do the same--"  
  
"Ron." Hermione said, "he isn't coming back. You can't become him. But you can honor him."  
  
He nodded. He was insane, to march into the certain death, but anger and hatred and sadness can do that to you. 


	3. The Unexpected Ally

Authors' note ~ Finally! Chapter two! Thanks for the wait! Thanks for the reviews. Hope you guys like it. I have a feeling I'll have a lot of flames for this chapter....... Thanks for reading! ~ Lost soul ~ Twilight Gurl ~  
  
Chapter Two  
  
The Unexpected Ally  
  
Hermione and Ron had set up their headquarters in the long since deserted house of Harry's aunt and uncle. They figured that was the one place that no one would suspect them of going, since they both had shown at the funeral how deeply hurt they were. Ron wasn't completely sure, Voldemort could do reverse-psychology, but Hermione re-assured him.  
  
"Ron, stop worrying. Maybe Harry's spirit could give us a heads up." she smiled trying to make him laugh.  
  
Ron didn't laugh. He did give a half smile. Hermione told him that she had to run out for a bit. He waved her off and walked up stairs the place Harry had called a 'room'. He sat down on the bed and looked around.  
  
The house had been abandoned at the time of Harry's death. As soon as the Dursley's had heard, they had taken off, never wanting to see anything that had to do with Magic. That and the fact that the man who killed Harry might know where they live. The Dursley's didn't want to anything to happen to them or their Dudley.  
  
"Yeah, that'd be a real shame," Ron thought bitterly. "Harry's dead, dying trying to save you, and of course you wouldn't want anything happening to your stupid, fat kid."  
  
He shook himself mentally. It was not the time to start arguing with everyone that came to mind, twisting them back to Harry. That would just cause more grief. It would cause only more despair and tears. No, Ron would be strong. He and Hermione had a job to do; they had a great task ahead of them. It would probably the last great task that anyone would achieve in this world and time.  
  
Ron set up his own desk and bed in Harry's old room, and he tried to make it feel as homily as possible. It wasn't his room at the burrow. It wasn't his Hogwarts bed. But, Ron thought, it would definitely have to do. There wasn't enough time to worry about comforts, they had to act fast. Voldemort could have already started to commence his evil plan. This brought Ron to terms with reality once more. He had been caught up in the arranging of his quarters, he hadn't thought about Voldemort. Now he had. Ron rushed out of the room, and down the stairs to run into Hermione, whom had been carrying a cauldron. The black cauldron crashed to the floor. It split into pieces across the floor.  
  
"Ronald Weasley!" She raged. "Still as clumsy as ever!"  
  
She waved her wand at the floor and the cauldron came together. She looked back up at Ron.  
  
"I suppose that you have made up your room and not the rest of the house, then?" She looked skeptically at the red-haired boy. When he didn't answer and looked at the floor, Hermione gave a sigh, and all anger and frustration she was feeling went away. "Ron, I miss him too. We've been over this. We need to collect ourselves, pull together. Harry would have done it. Now, we have to go down to Diagon Alley and get some ingredients for potions. I'm running low on my supply, and I figured I could use some help. You can't stay around here all day, not unless you want to just break down completely and prove no use to me or to Harry."  
  
Ron nodded. "I know that, Hermione. I don't think you know that, but I understand what needs to be done. It's just so hard. We used to do these insane, suicidal things with him, and he was the one telling us it was time to go and fight some new, evil thing. I'm doing my best."  
  
"Okay, good to hear that," Hermione said. "Not that I'm not feeling any less emotional than you. You do have the emotional range of a tee- spoon."  
  
Hermione smiled.  
  
Ron laughed, and walked closer to Hermione. "Let's go."  
  
With that the two disappeared from the dusty living room of the forgotten house on Private Drive. They never even thought to move the cauldron to a safer place.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"How about lizard's tails?" Ron asked, picking up a jar.  
  
"No Ron. Why would we need those?" Hermione looked around at the shelves. "All you have done since we've gotten here is pick up jars and ask me if we need them. Use your brain. You passed all seven years of Hogwarts too."  
  
Ron felt like mumbling something under his breath that would go against Hermione's comment, but couldn't think of anything. So he rolled his eyes and went back to looking.  
  
Ron put his hand on the jars of ingredients and ran it down the shelves, looking at names.  
  
"Dragon's Blood. No, Hermione is sure to have that one. Dragon Scales. What? What would you use them for? Dragon fang. Fang? That has to be rare......and powerful. Maybe I should get Hermione over here and......"  
  
At that moment, the muttering Ron ran into someone. Ron felt incredibly stupid, backed away, only to see the store manager. It wasn't a very pretty sight. Ron knew that hair and that face from anywhere. And only this person would show up while Ron was looking at the Dragon section of the shop.  
  
"Draco," Ron said, hatred still seeping in his words. "What's wrong? Couldn't find a proper place to work?"  
  
"I wouldn't talk, Weasley," Draco said. "Do you even have a job?"  
  
To this, Ron had no answer.  
  
At this moment, Hermione strolled over. She didn't seem to 'loose her cool' as much as Ron had.  
  
"Draco Malfoy," She said. "Only place that would let you have a job after your father was discovered, eh?"  
  
"Shut-up Mudblood," Draco sneered. "Or you'll get what's coming for you."  
  
"Draco, stop it," Hermione said. "The fight's gone out of you. Was it a year ago when the Ministry discovered your father still plotting sides with the Dark Lord? What did they do? Throw him in Azkaban or let him die? And what happened to you? I hear that you, Draco of the Malfoy family, lost your fortune. You lost your status among society. You feel down to the lowest level of the Wizarding world. You are seen as a traitor. A half- blood like me. Maybe, not half wizard, half human, but half traitor, half wizard."  
  
"I'm warning you......" Draco said, stepping away from Hermione.  
  
"Draco, you can't beat me in a duel," Hermione said. "You know that. You see that I've come a long way since school and Harry's death. Now, if you don't mind, please charge me for all these ingredients so I can get along with my day! I will not spend the entire afternoon watching you and Ron fight over stupid school relations."  
  
Draco walked up the counter and began to count of Hermione's items without a word. Ron was completely confused about why Draco would just stop fighting after Hermione had brought up his past. Then, Ron gave Draco a glance. Draco was looking down, ignoring the two, adding up the items.  
  
Ashamed, Ron realized. Draco Malfoy was ashamed.  
  
Maybe Ron would celebrate later.  
  
Hermione approached the counter cautiously, and leaned in very close to Draco. She knew what she was doing was foolish, and could prove very dangerous to her and Ron, but it was something she felt would be the right thing to do.  
  
All Harry had wanted was to do the right thing too.  
  
"Draco," She whispered. "Help us get the Dark Lord, and maybe you'll earn your dignity."  
  
The whisper wasn't soft enough.  
  
"What!" Ron exclaimed. "Hermione! What're you doing? You can't trust him! His father worked for Voldemort!"  
  
"Why would I want to be on the same team as Weasley anyway?" Draco hissed, sending Ron a look.  
  
"Because there's more in it for you than there is for me and Ron," Hermione admitted. "We're doing this to have some peace with Harry. You're doing this for your family."  
  
"Harry was my family, Hermione!" Ron fumed. "I can't believe you even asked him! I can't believe you said we're doing this to have peace with Harry's death......."  
  
"It's true Ron!" Hermione said. "And Draco could help us a lot. With his father working with the Dark Lord, he could help us with secrets maybe. He might even know a few spells that I don't."  
  
"You want to go after Voldemort," Draco said softly. "You want to get yourselves killed?"  
  
"Yeah, so if you don't mind, we'll be on our way......" Ron made to leave the shop, but Hermione grabbed his arm, still looking at Draco.  
  
"Wait," She whispered to him.  
  
"I hated Potter," Draco started. "I won't stop now. I don't like you two, so don't think this changes things between us. What I do care about is my father and my family-"  
  
"-and yourself," Ron muttered.  
  
"-so I'll help you. I don't know why. I don't know how, but I will," Draco picked up the potions, and put them in a bag, and carried them from behind the counter. "I have nothing, so I don't have anything to use. I'm not the same person I used to be."  
  
"No kidding," Ron said.  
  
There was a still silence, and the three looked around at each other. Ron felt strange looking at Hermione and Draco. The number three. It reminded him of Harry and Hermione and him running off into danger. The number was back. It had never been lucky in the past. Harry died because of it.......  
  
Wait, no. Not because of it. Harry had been off by himself when he looked for Voldemort. But he always had in the past. Ron tried desperately to figure out this thought. Ron and Hermione had always been with him some step of the way. Agreeing with him about what to do.  
  
Had Harry died because of an unlucky number?  
  
Ron shook his head. Harry wouldn't have liked this arrangement.  
  
But Harry wasn't here.  
  
Ron put out his hand. And Draco eyed it.  
  
"Welcome to the Avengers," Ron half-laughed. "Hope you like pain and death."  
  
Draco laughed out loud, and shook Ron's hand.  
  
"Pain and death?" Draco laughed. "You have a way with words Weasley." He stopped laughed. "And it isn't funny, and I'm not your friend."  
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Ron smiled. 


End file.
